Cold, lonely, dark.
No one knew how much time had passed. His consciousness seemed to sink forever, deeper and deeper.
Between sleep and wakefulness,
he seemed to hear someone calling out to him.
It was a girl's voice.
Why does it sound so familiar? he wondered inwardly. Why does it feel familiar? It seems I've heard this voice somewhere before, but I can't remember where.
A hazy female face gazed at him tenderly and affectionately, her lips slightly parted as if calling out to him. Yet he couldn't hear what she was saying.
He felt so tired.
At last, this bizarre dream, which had continued for who knew how long, developed a tiny "crack."
"Awakening procedure complete."
"He's awake."
"He's awake!"
"Whoa, is this the legendary Wallfacer?"
"He's really awake!"
The cacophonous voices poured into his brain, which had gone unused for so long, like a flood. The noise made him let out a sound that seemed partly displeased and partly a pained groan.
"Quiet!"
A hoarse, mechanical voice barked.
The surroundings quickly fell silent.
Several glaring white lights shone straight down, making his eyes sting. He closed them and waited quietly for a few seconds. Once he had adjusted somewhat, he slowly opened them again.
The first thing he saw was an ornate, retro-style dome with a distinctly ancient European aesthetic. At the center of the enormous dome was a brilliantly colored oil painting.
With his artistic temperament, he took a careful look at the fresco painted on the dome.
A blond man sat high upon a throne, with different men occupying either side of him. Every one of them possessed inhuman height and incomparably handsome faces, almost the very embodiment of perfection. The overall arrangement resembled the famed religious painting "The Last Supper," created by Da Vinci.
Yes,